


Odd Numbers

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Superstition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-14 17:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13595214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: Life has patterns in it when you're over 150 years old. For Taako, nothing lasts forever. He knows this. It's the things and people he loves and cares about that have known expiration dates.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Adventure Zone in general and the Balance Arc in particular belong to the McElroys. Everything else is part of my sinister magics.

_ This world only had a year. One year. That was it. They didn’t know, down there, that the sight of the silver ship heralded destruction. They didn’t know that the shining Light that came down from the sky was too important for them to keep. They didn’t know about the storm that was coming to eat them… _

 

* * *

 

Taako woke from dreams of dying. On alien worlds. Through various means. Through explosions and purple worms. From the subtle to the gross. In agony. From disease. From acid. From an allergic fucking reaction.

Shit.

It had almost been a full turn of the seasons.

Today was day three hundred and sixty-five. Today was death day.

Taako experienced some vertiginous terror, looking at the husband in his bed. At the child who had crawled in for their comfort during the night. He still had nightmares about the Hunger war.

Oh. Right.

The war was over.

But the panic was still there.

The fear, the terror, that these bonds would be broken. That he would have to leave these people that he cared about. That he was stupid enough to care about. That he’d been foolish enough to bond with and would be torn away from.

So he packed their adventure bags. Packed provisions for three days. And woke them up for a surprise adventure in the countryside. A happy moment before the ship flew away and left them to fend for themselves against whatever the Hunger might bring…

They were two days away from it all when it sank in.

The Hunger was not coming. It was never coming.

It was never coming again.

His little family held him close as he broke down in tears on the little boat they were fishing on. Tears of relief. Tears of joy. Tears of fear that he  _ forgot. _ He forgot again. The way he was used to… had been used to for a hundred years… didn’t have to be that way any more.

Kravitz and Ango held him. Soothed him. Got Lup over to help him get grounded again.


	2. Three

_ Koko always kept count of the time they were staying anywhere. They didn’t stay with anyone for long, but he knew the record. _

_ Three years. _

_ It didn’t matter where they were. Their grampa’s. Student accomodations. Tiny little flats in a ghetto for undesirable elements. Anywhere they actually wanted to stay ended up kicking them out before three years were up. _

_ Even when they were staying at staff quarters at the IPRE campus. They launched aboard the Starblaster before those three years were up. _

* * *

 

Taako knew that he had a home of his own. He paid for it himself. He  _ had _ it. It was named after him. And had been his for two years, eleven months, and thirty days.

This was his superstition. That he wouldn’t be allowed to keep this place. That someone, somewhere, would find a way to kick him out.

So of course he was stress-cooking every single comfort food he knew. Putting on an extreme banquet in order to bribe whatever asshole happened to appear to take everything he had earned away from him.

He would wine them, dine them, seduce them if he had to and apologise to Kravitz after the fact. He’d understand. God, he hoped he’d understand.

Shit.

What if the three year curse happened because they broke up and this house no longer felt like a home?

Shit. Fuck.

In the middle of a consomme, he dialed up his husband and pressed the stone between his ear and his shoulder as he worked.

“Hello, Dove. I’m lost in the paperwork at the moment.”

“Hey babe quick question,” he babbled. “If I had to seduce a complete stranger to keep our home would you break up with me I really need to know before the three year curse hits.”

“Uh. Just a second?” The sound of Kravitz’s stone being put gently down. The distant voice of his beloved. “What’s the three year curse, Lup?”

The even more distant voice of his sister. “Oh fuck… Tell Taako I’m there to defend his home. And tell him I said he’s a weenie.  _ Get _ in there, damnit.”

Taako laughed even though he was close to tears.

Kravitz came back to full volume. “I’m guessing this is a long story. How much food have you made?”

Taako looked around. Fuck. “Uhm. Shit tons?” He realised what he’d been doing. “I should… probably finish up.”

“Yes, dove. Your family is coming. We’ll all fight for you. Just… finish up what you’re doing and have some of that tea I got you. Okay?”

He took a deep breath. “Sure. I got chocolate truffles and some twenty-four carrot cake to decorate and then Taako should be good.”

Kravitz muttered, “...bloody hell, love…”

Lup’s distant voice. “Hey, is he doing hellfuck expensive desserts?”

Kravitz moved the stone away, “Do chocolate truffles count?”

Lup said, “Fuck  _ me. _ Yeah, he’s deep.” The distinctive sound of a fireball. “And stay in there or you’ll get two for flinching!”

The air tore, and there was his sister, still flaming from her contact with the chill of the afterlife. “You’re okay, bro,” she said, barging in and taking over. “I got this.” She poured a large glass of wine. “Sit. Drink. I can finish up your-- Fantasy  _ Jesus!” _ She was boggling. “Frankly  _ insane _ amount of food. Okay. Deep breaths, Koko. I’m calling in  _ all _ our friends ‘cause…  _ damn.” _

He took a sip. Took a gulp. Took a chug. “Overdid it, huh?”

“Babe, there’s overboard, there’s fucking overboard, and there’s whatever the fuck this is.” She gestured loosely at the banquet table full of food, the buffet tables full of food, and the countertops full of food. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were entering Luume’irma.”

As she cooked, she was using Mage Hand to dial up everyone they mutually knew.

“Yeah, Merle? Taako’s had a freak-out bake-off. Bring the entire fucking family. All the cousins you can stand. Yeah, I fucking mean it. You should  _ see _ this shit. Thanks. I’ll try to send Bar or Krav to arrange a portal RSN. I’m finishing up his dishes before he starts using his empty fucking pantry as storage space.” Beep. “Mags? Taako’s had a freak-out bake-off…”

He let her voice fade into the background. As the wine went down, he thought that bribing a fucking army of love would be just as effective as seducing whatever stranger happened to try and take his home away.

This was good. This was…

Well. It would work.

Taako finished his glass of wine and started to breathe a little easier.


	3. Five

_ The fifth year of Sizzle it Up! was the last good one. Especially the last good one with Sazed. It was the last one where they were friendly. The last one where Taako didn’t have to worry about anything. Where he thought he was closest to actually winning at life for a change. _

_ The last year when he wasn’t lonely. _

_ And then Sazed left in the next year. _

* * *

 

Taako was going all out. New outfit - sexy as fuck, of course. New racy underwear. Killer makeup. Best hair. Candlelit dinner made by the best chef in the multiverse: Taako. Of fucking course.

Rose petals on the bed. A nice warm fire to bring Kravitz back to living temperature.

All of Kravitz’s favourites. Including a Fantasy Record of his favourite music.

The best food. The best wine. The best goddamn sex he had had in his life or undeath.

Taako was going to knock it out of the park.

Kravitz came to it late. That’s okay. Taako had catnapped during the wait. He was used to being On at a moment’s notice.

He rose like a poem. Glad but not too eager to see his beloved. The one man in all of every existence anywhere to put up with Taako’s bullshit for this long.

Might as well go out with a bang in more ways than one, right?

Kravitz took in the extravagance. The favourites from fuckoff-hundred years ago. The candles. The music. The main squeeze. The fucking knockout outfit. He got a panicked look in his eye. “Dove… did I forget… an occasion?”

Play it cool. Keep it casual. No need to spook him. “What? A guy can’t show appreciation for his bomb-ass killer boyfriend with the best night of his existence?”

“Well. No. There’s nothing wrong with that… It’s just...”

Fuck. The ‘just’. Taako tried not to panic. A thousand excuses from a strictly criminal amount of lovers ran through his head.  _ It’s just that I’m already married. It’s just that I have this other thing. It’s just that I want a little more. It’s just that this is getting boring. It’s just that I want us to be friends from now on. It’s just that you’re an Elf and I don’t want you to watch me die… _

He’d heard them all. Everything from the gentle let-down to the knock-down, drag-out fight so loud that got the local cops in on it. “...yeah?” he managed, his voice barely a squeak.

“I’ve seen you do this before. You always knock out all the stops when you’re terrified of something. You can talk to me, love. You can cry it out. Scream if you have to. Get it off your chest. I’ll still be here.” He shed his Reaper garb and wrapped Taako up in his arms. “I married you, remember? Until you get sick of me.”

Gods. Why did he have to be so gentle and loving and understanding? Why did he have to be so soft when the hard stuff was just around the corner? Why did he have to be so sappy and nice and kind and… and… and…

Before Taako knew it, he was blubbering into Kravitz’s nice white shirt. The designer one Taako had got him for last Candlenights. Getting his mascara all over that crisp linen. Ruining his look. Ruining everything.

Including their relationship by running through a litany of his previous lovers, the ones that mattered, over a century and a half of life. Of how long each relationship lasted and the ‘just’ that left him alone and lonely and it was gonna end. Kravitz was too perfect and Taako was a walking train wreck, especially  _ now, _ and it was all going to turn sour and Kravitz would leave because that’s what everyone else did for forever.

“...and now I’ve gone and ruined your favourite fucking shirt…” he bawled.

“Taako…” Kravitz cooed. Adding kisses and soft strokes until he had Taako’s tear-streaked attention. “Do you know why it’s my favourite?”

“‘Cause,” he gulped. “It’s a bomb ass shirt?”

“It’s my favourite because you gave it to me. You spent days tracking down just the right designer. Just the right materials. Making sure it was just the right fit. Because you love me, and you love it when I look nice for you. And I wear it as often as I can so I can carry a little bit of your love with me. Even in the worst places. Even when I’m performing the worst parts of my duties… I have your love wherever I go.”

Taako giggled through the tears. “Sappy goddamn bard.”

“You love it,” he said. “And I know it.”

Sigh. “Yeah.”

“Besides,  your Prestidigitation can take care of any old mascara stain.”

Taako cast the cantrip, and the small stain on the perfect shirt vanished.

Kravitz made him laugh with his best Taako impersonation, using the immovable rod and repeating a line that had been dramatised in a thousand travelling plays. “I’m not going fucking anywhere.”

And the spectre of rejection was vanquished.


	4. Seven

_ Taako watched as the travelling circus that had been the closest thing to a home in fifteen years go up in flames. If there was anyone else who got out of that pyre, they wouldn’t take in the witch-eyed twins that they’d been blaming for every fucking mishap since they latched on to the coattails of Marvin the Magnificent Fraud. _

_ Seven years. Up in smoke. _

_ He’d thought that constantly moving might have helped them avoid the Three Year curse. _

_ Maybe he and his sister were actually cursed. _

_ “Koko don’t you dare think we’re bad luck,” said Lup, as if reading his thoughts. _

_ “Maybe I just shouldn’t say the word ‘home’,” he said. “Maybe that’s bad luck.” _

_ “Or maybe this stink planet is giving us extra challenges because we’re almost too awesome to be allowed to exist,” she said, taking his hand. It didn’t matter where they were going. Just that they were going together. And away from the trouble. _

* * *

 

There was trouble brewing in the wind. Taako could feel it. He had a wall set up, trying to pinpoint exactly how it would start. As well as where and when it was going to bite him in the ass. A giant map of Faerun, set about with angry complaint letters and files and portraits and, most important for any conspiracy map, colour-coded strings linking things together.

Ren found him at it. Sighed out a deep breath. “A wall of madness, Taako?  _ Really? _ You’re going there?” She rubbed her temples. “I swear to the gods, Taako. Every other year, you flip out about something and someone has to talk you the fuck down. So.” She made an authoritative ‘come hither’ gesture.

Taako clambered down the ladder and fronted up to his business partner. “Okay,” he allowed. “I might have gone a  _ teensy _ bit overboard…”

“Taako,” said Ren in calm and measured tones. “What the fuck…?” and gestured at his wall of madness.

“Seven year curse,” said Taako. “Just when I think it’s all over and I start getting the littlest bit comfortable… WHAM! Something drops out of nowhere to fuck up my hopes and fuckin’ dreams.”

“Taako, that cannot possibly be true.”

“Last time, it was a meteor, Ren. A fucking meteor!” He mimed it, whistling and making explosion noises, “Fuck you and your plans, Taako. Have a fucking piece of rock from the goddamn sky. Right in the middle of everything you thought you could get away with loving.”

In spite of the situation, she smiled. “You love this school?”

“Fuck yeah. And you. And everything we’ve built. I don’t want it to…” he made another explosion noise, miming it with his hyperactive hands.

“Dude… The goddess of  _ fate _ and the goddess of  _ death _ are literally in your corner. You could  _ ask them. _ Set your mind at peace.”

Taako took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. I’m makin’ ‘em rum balls. They fucking love those shits.” He ran off.

That gave Ren… she checked her pocket-watch… fifteen minutes before the next big disaster potential. Twenty-five if he had a freak-out over the proper ingredients. Not much of a worry there. Taako’s Magical School of Magic prided itself on fully-stocked gourmet kitchens. And plump and very happy students.

Twenty minutes later, Ren had Kravitz, Lup, and Merle on speed-dial, depending on how this particular offering went.

Taako said his prayers and surrendered the offering of fucking pitch-perfect dark chocolate rum balls. Practically wafting hard liquor stink over the miniature altars. And finally asked his question. “Is the disaster I fear going to happen?”

Ren heard the Divine Voice say, “Holy shit these are bomb-ass fucking offerings.”

“Istus?” squeaked Taako.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry. No, homie, you’re cool. No more disasters, okay? Chill.”

She had to call Merle. Taako was a gibbering mess.


	5. Nine

_ It was the worst year yet. No horse. No shelter. No food. No hope. Never enough cold winter gear. Every part of his body felt like a painful knife on his nerves. _

_ He had nothing. _

_ He had nobody. _

_ And he was seriously pondering whether or not to just fall over and die. But there was a light in the darkness and Taako stumbled towards it. Maybe the people who had set that fire would never have heard of Sizzle it Up! _

_ The fire was a house. The raiders who had set it were long gone. The people who had lived there were dead. The only clue was a scrap of paper. _

_ Need a job? It read. Sign up to Kreg’s List in the Lonely Hearts Cantina! Postings daily! _

_ And at that moment, Taako made what could be called the best and worst decision of his life. _

* * *

 

“Nope. No. Nada. Uh-uh. Taako is not starting any new business deals, this year. I’m not signing any contracts. I’m not starting up anything. I’m not even funding any start-ups. No. I’m done with it. Just the status quo is fine. Let it ride!”

Angus, who was reaching a breaking point, put down all his business proposals and said, “All right, sir. What is it this time?”

“What’s what what time?” said Taako. “I’m allowed to play it safe for a change.”

“Sir, this is the ninth year since the Hunger War. You have a thing about odd-numbered years. What’s wrong with year nine, please, sir?”

“You’re gonna hate it,” said Taako. “You’re gonna hate me.”

Angus sighed. “I can not and will not hate my Dad for telling the truth.”

Taako paced. Agitated. This was something he thought would hurt Angus, somehow?

“My ninth year an amnesiac,” he said. “I heard about Kreg’s List and where it got posted. Decided to take it up. And wound up... “ he waved a hand in the air, “on a whirlwind tour between deadly peril and fuck this shit. I died eleven more times, Ango. Eleven. As if I wasn’t on the Raven Queen’s shit list for the eight during the Stolen Century. I swear she still looks at me like I’m on a bed of lettuce.”

“Sir,” chided Angus. “She’s your mother-in-law. She’s making sure you don’t hurt Kravitz.”

He scoffed. “I’d rather die.”

“We know that, sir. And so does Kravitz. But… you have been slightly unstable since the Hunger War, sir.”

“Slightly,” echoed Taako with a chuckle. “Yeah. Uh. Odd-numbered years aren’t that great for ol’ Taako. So no, I’m not starting any new ventures this year. Just to play it safe. We good?”

Angus sighed. Sometimes, there was no bargaining with fear. “May I have some money for investments that  _ I _ deem worthy?”

Taako smiled, recognising the ‘out’. “Sure. You’re a clever kid. Not some dumbass Elf with a thing against odd-numbered years starting from an arbitrary origin point.”

“I’m twenty years old, sir. A grown-ass humanman.”

“Yeah I still dunno about this Smooth Jazz Ango,” Taako ranted. “Cast Mend on your freaking voice or something.”


	6. Eleven

_ It was warm and humid on the cart. Koko still kept a tight grip on his sister’s hand. Afraid to move. Afraid to let go. Afraid to say a word. _

_ He had just watched his mother die. _

_ He had just seen the only home he’d ever known burn. _

_ The flames were still there whenever he closed his eyes, so he didn’t want to close his eyes. Nobody with them in the cart dared make a sound. Some stared at nothing. Some looked to others for reassurance. Koko kept a watch on the road stretching out behind them. As if the fact that he watched it meant that the bad people who had burned Tre Llew-Ddion couldn’t follow them. _

_ As if bad guys played by the rules of freeze tag. _

_ Lulu broke the silence. “Is it past midnight, yet?” _

_ Someone said ‘yes’. _

_ “You’re twelve years old, bro. I’d say ‘happy birthday’, but…” _

_ It was his birthday, now. And he’d just lost everything except his sister. _

* * *

 

This was the third day in a row that Taako was contacting everyone in his Fantasy Rollodex to make sure that they were safe.

Kravitz wrapped his husband up in the safety of his feathered cloak. “Dove? This is another  _ thing _ isn’t it?

“Who says it’s a thing?”

“Nine years after the Hunger War. You wouldn’t do any new business venture in case it went bad and put your life at risk. Seven years after the Hunger war, you were trying to figure out what kind of racial violence would implode all your plans. Five years after the Hunger War, you were  _ convinced _ I was going to leave you. Three years… it was a fear that you would lose our home. And one year after the Hunger War… you were afraid there was  _ another _ Hunger that was going to eat everything.” He punctuated his litany with kisses. “I’m here for you, love. Tell me what the worry is. Hm?”

Taako sighed. “I was eleven when Tre Llew-Ddion went up in flames. I lost almost everything I loved before my twelfth birthday.  _ Just _ before my twelfth birthday.”

Kravitz whistled backwards in sympathy. “I can take you on a tour of all your friends and family, Fantasy Christmas Carol Style. You can see them, but you can’t interfere with their day.”

Taako was trembling in his arms. “That would be the sweetest thing ever, babe. And later? You, me, and Barold will work on some kind’a… bond-related alert system. So I can fucking  _ know _ if anyone’s in danger and scramble the fucking cavalry.”

Kravitz chuckled. “We should have thought of something like that in year five.”

“Eh, we can’t all be Ango.”


	7. Thirteen

When Taako came home from a shopping spree, all of his family were waiting for him at his home.

“Is this an intervention?” He asked, lining up his shopping on the dining table.

“It’s more of a pre-vention, sir,” said Angus. “Whatever your problem with Year Thirteen is, we’re here and we’re ready to help you deal with it.”

Only Lup was grinning like this was a joke. “I know we never got up to thirteen, but…” she shrugged. “Just in case, y’know?”

Magnus said, “We’re here for ya, buddy. Anything you need.”

Merle growled, “You need to sort out your shit, kid.”

Taako didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Wound up doing both. In an instant, Lup and Kravitz were on either side of him, and Magnus squished all three of them together in one of his famous spine-realigning bear hugs.

Taako was still vaguely hysterical. “You guys,” he bubbled.

“What is it, love?” Kravitz cooed.

“You guys are the nicest, sweetest assholes…”

Lup squeezed him after Magnus put them down. “God, you fucking train wreck. I declare a cuddle-pile. Barry, Krav, and I are gonna cook your faves and we can all hang around and laugh at this. Sound good?”

“Yeah, you can all fuckin’ roast me while you’re at it,” said Taako. “And I demand the right to roast right fuckin’ back.”

Lup grinned. “A roast night. I love it. Everything’s getting roasted. The meat. The vegetables. The guests. The host. Fucking awesome.”

“Long as we don’t roast the wine,” cheered Kravitz.

It was a night of hugs, good food, and good friends. Of friendly banter and casual sniping between close allies. And plenty of the good alcohol, though it all tasted the same to Taako.

Taako could begin to believe that good things would happen on odd-numbered years. If this was a sample of what was to come? He could get to love it.

He already loved all of them.

Lup wound up being his pillow towards the tail of the evening. Where everyone present was considering the logistics of literally crawling off to a convenient bed. Watching the clock tick to just four minutes after midnight. Just fresh into the day after midsummer’s day.

“Happy birthday, bro.”

Taako, very drunk, said, “Where’s m’ fuckin’ present?”

“My present is my presence, dingus.” She kissed him. “You sleep in this morning. We’ll paint the town red tonight. ‘Kay?”

“...we sh’d do this ev’ry year. Two day party. You’n’me.”

“We should bring back the two week fiasco. That’ll be fun.”

Taako stared blearily at her. “You said you were here t’ stop anythin’ bad fr’m happening…”

Lup patted his hair. “Okay. We’ll work  _ up _ to a fiasco. Take it easy.”

“Baby steps,” singsonged Taako before he passed out.

 

END!


End file.
